


The Dream Team Reunited

by zen_fox



Series: The Kandreil Continuation [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Interview style, M/M, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-23 06:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13184652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zen_fox/pseuds/zen_fox
Summary: Seven years ago, Kevin Day came to Palmetto State University with a potentially career-ending injury. Four years later, he left with one of Exy’s most controversial friendships, and an on-court partnership that followed him out of PSU and into the professional leagues when Neil Josten joined the Coyotes last year. Now Andrew Minyard has joined their line, what’s next for these former Foxes?(AKA:I wanted to make an edit for Tumblr in the style of a magazine spread, so I thought I'd whip up a quick fake interview to go along with it.)





	The Dream Team Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> Despite only having posted the first chapter of the first fic of the series here, I'm still posting the "interview" that will end the series now, because the [graphical edit](https://onlycareaboutexy.tumblr.com/post/169053369614/a-magazine-spread-from-my-kandreil-continuation) is less fun without it. Rest assured that there will be a great many more fics set between _Beginning, Building Bridges_ and this one, though!

On the day of our interview, my first glimpse of the legendary trio comes in the parking lot. I am outside for a cigarette when I can't help but look for the source of the low growl that rolls through the air: a four-liter V8 engine will turn the heads of car enthusiasts and casual bystanders alike. It's a Maserati Quattroporte, gleaming with newness and polish, with the promise of new beginnings. I already know who its owner is before the blond head appears from the driver's side: this is the car of someone who with not only excellent taste, but who has just stepped up in the world.

 

Andrew Minyard is the most recent addition to the lineup of the Coyotes, currently the third-ranked team in the Nation. It's a big move for a player only two years out of college, but the Coyotes' impressive ranking is a recent development: three years ago, they were languishing in the middle of the table, never quite dropping down far enough to be in danger of relegation, but never threatening to be a serious contender at the top of the division, either. All of that changed in 2009 when Kevin Day joined their line to the surprise of Exy fans everywhere, and whose presence on the team made an immediate difference to their performance. It's less of a surprise that he exits the vehicle only a moment after Minyard does; their relationship dates back to Minyard's first year with the Foxes of Palmetto State, and rumour has it that Day was instrumental in Minyard's transfer from the Hawks.

 

There are a great many rumours about Day and Minyard, in fact, and I am looking forward to the opportunity to ask them for their version of events.

 

The final member of their holy trinity is Neil Josten, who appears from the back of the car a moment later. Josten joined the Coyotes right out of Palmetto just a year ago, and has been instrumental in their ascent from mediocrity to being the team threatening to become the new dominant force in professional Exy. Their meteoric raise started when Day joined the line, but his partnership with Josten has proven invaluable: last season, their impressive on-court pair-work saw them blaze through the defences of team after team, moving four places up the rankings by the end of the year. It's not the record (that honour goes to the Magpies, who, in the 01/02 season, managed to storm though eleven places and almost entirely flip the table, a feat we're unlikely to see again), but it was impressive enough that this year Josten has graduated to Starting Striker. That's not a record, either: that one is held by none other than Day himself, who occupied that position from his first day with the Coyotes (as he had at college-level with the Foxes before them, and the Ravens before that), but it undoubtedly marks Josten a rising star in the sport.

 

Minyard, too, is a force to be reckoned with: although his time with the Hawks has racked up less column inches than the highly-visible partnership of Josten and Day, true fans of the sport will recognise Minyard's name as one of the best goalkeepers currently playing.

 

The camaraderie between them is obvious, even across a lot and through the haze of my cigarette: Josten frowns, Day claps him on the shoulder, and Minyard produces two cigarettes. He hands one to Josten (who curiously chooses not to smoke it), and they lean against the car while Day delivers what looks like a lecture to them both. The look that passes between them is one of people who have heard this all before, but there is no censure in it, and no displeasure. Our plan for the day's interview takes us across several sites for photographs, and I'm hoping to get a sense of the three from spending the time with them: to really get to grips with these men, the rising stars of Exy, and the relationships between them which have carried them from their college careers to their professional ones. Who are these men, really? How is it that they came to be back on the same team? What drives them, what are their opinions on each other, and where do they go from here?

 

* * *

  _ **KEVIN DAY**_  

* * *

 

The best known of the three, Kevin Day has been in the public eye since early childhood, something which shows in his easy manner as he seeks me out early on in the day. "Do you mind if I join you?" he asks, and I have to laugh, because there isn't an Exy fan in the world who wouldn't say yes to that question... And that includes those who have, over the course of his career, gone from loving him to hating him. Day's trajectory has been just as impressive as his parentage would suggest— and equally controversial, to boot. From his stellar performance with the Ravens —then synonymous with excellence in the field of college Exy— to his debilitating injury and subsequent transfer to the bottom-ranked Foxes, his is a double-whammy fall-and-rise story, even _before_ the controversy surrounding those events. Between the revelation that his injury was no accident to the media circus that followed the news that the Foxes' devoted Coach Wymack was his biological father, Day is certainly no stranger to being the centre of attention, or to splitting opinion among the fans.

 

When I put that to him, he only shrugs. "I've lived with media intrusion all of my life," he points out. "I appreciate that there have been events in my life which have been difficult for people to understand, considering they don't have all the information. Unfortunately, it's not always possible to be completely open, and passion can very easily turn to anger." So he forgives the fans who turned on him when he moved to the Foxes, some of which continue to give him trouble to date? "I don't condone illegal activity," he says, voice and expression both perfectly serious. "It's unacceptable for people to make threats against myself or my team, or to damage other people's property. But if they want to hate me, they are entitled to their position. I appreciate the devotion our fans have for our sport— It's what makes it possible for us to have enough teams to make for an exciting league and an enjoyable season. You have to take the bad with the good."

 

That sounds rehearsed, I tell him, and he laughs. "Of course it is, but that doesn't make it any less true. Nothing in life comes without a cost." I ask him the cost of choosing the Coyotes when he could have had a career with a team that had more prestige, and he sighs.

 

"I've been playing Exy for as long as I can remember. Long before that, in fact, because my earliest memories aren't _learning_ to play, they're just _playing_. It's always been the biggest part of my life. It was a connection to my mother, and to my father, but the game itself I've loved every day of my life. Those closest to me will tease me about my inability to stay off the court for more than a week, but I don't see any shame in it. I'm fantastically fortunate to be able to have made a career out of what I love most. When I was evaluating my options as graduation approached, I did have multiple offers —though I can't say from which teams, of course— and the reason I chose the Coyotes was because Coach Warner approached me personally." He leans forward in his seat and offers a conspiratorial smile. "Foxes and Coyotes aren't so different, you know: they're the same family, after all. _Canidae_. And after Coach Warner told me that, she then told me that if I could do for the Coyotes what I did for the Foxes, she'd let me write my own ticket."

 

He's referring here to the fact that the Foxes went from dead-last in the rankings to winning the Championship in his first full season with the team, a feat which was nothing short of record-breaking. A subsequent win followed two seasons later, in his final year with the college leagues; although this was less of a surprise, and the Foxes had matured as a team, it was still an impressive win for Day— and for Josten, in his first season as Captain. I ask if that's what he's referring to, and he smiles.

 

"You're right, of course: the biggest part of that success was being able to select the right combination of players. Fortunately, Coach Warner is just as quick as you, and consequently, she has taken my input on board when looking at filling the gaps in our line."

 

Is that a tacit admission that he did, indeed, push for Minyard's selection? Their relationship at Palmetto was widely publicised; although there was much speculation, parts of it more salacious than others, what is provable is that they were rarely apart in the first years after Day transferred to the school. Might Day feel he owes Minyard a debt for the part he played in his recovery, and in the resurgence of his career?

 

"It would do Andrew a disservice to suggest that he is only on this team because of me, but most certainly I argued to get him on our line. He is the most talented goalkeeper I've ever had the honour of playing with, and we're incredibly lucky to have him. He's going to do wonderful things for us this season."

 

I'm astonished he admits it so candidly, and when I tell him this, he says it's "time that it was common knowledge, to bring an end to the speculation." Consequently I can only inquire: did he push for Josten, too?

 

"Of course." He shrugs, like this isn't a big admission, like this isn't a question both he and Josten have been dodging for a year. "If I have any say in the matter, the three of us will play together for the remainder of our careers. I've never had a partnership like I do with Neil; I trained him myself from his freshman year at PSU, so our styles are perfectly compatible. I respect each and every one of my teammates, and there isn't a single striker on our line who doesn't absolutely deserve his or her place on the team, but strikers and backliners come in pairs. Neil is my perfect other half: he has the speed, and I have the precision. His ability to improvise is superlative, and it contrasts well with my preference for analytical play. It was nothing short of an enormous relief to have him back at my side last year, and we were very lucky I could convince him to join our line, because he had offers from all over the country."

 

And Minyard?

 

"Andrew saw the Foxes through to two Championship wins," he says, without missing a beat. "It was a huge blow when the Hawks snapped him up upon graduation, but we simply didn't have a spot on the line for a goalkeeper at the time. I'll confess that Coach and I had quite a few discussions about that," he admits, looking slightly embarrassed. "Because I wanted him straight from the Foxes, but the timing wasn't right. Nevertheless, I know he's gained valuable experience with the Hawks, and his stats speak for themselves. It's easy to see why it was so important for me to have Neil on the team, but in reality, Andrew is an equally integral element of our strategy."

 

Day's passion when speaking about his teammates is obvious, intense, and genuine. For the first time, I feel I am beginning to see the real Kevin Day: the man beneath his polished, press-ready persona. I ask him to elaborate, but it's barely necessary— I get the impression that he could talk about this until sundown.

 

"A striker has more face-time with the opposing team's goalie than his own, of course, and there may be an entire court between them, but that doesn't mean one is independent of the other. It is immensely gratifying to know that there is someone you can trust guarding your goal, and it is something every striker should consider. It means that you can content yourself entirely with setting up good shots when you're in far-court: your only focus is their goal, and it relieves the pressure of being obsessed with what will happen if you lose possession. Good goalkeepers are a safety net for their team twice over; apart from the obvious, they also create greater opportunities for their strikers by allowing for bolder plays, and I don't believe there's a better goalie in the game than Andrew Minyard."

 

That's a big claim to make, but Day only shrugs.

 

"I've been a supporter of Andrew's since his high school days," he points out. "We tried to get him for the Ravens and failed— which was ultimately for the best, of course, both for him and myself. But that's twice I've missed out on getting him on my team, and now that I have him, I have no intentions of letting him go again."

 

Does that mean Court is in his future?

 

"I've always said Andrew could be Court, and I stand by that assertion. If you're asking me are they planning to make him an offer any time soon, you'll understand if I have to politely decline to comment." Day's own presence with the US Court was instrumental in their improved standing at London this year, and I slyly ask if he thinks they can step up to take gold in 2016 with Minyard and Josten on the squad. He wags a finger in my direction and says he won't be drawn into speculation that could get him into trouble. "Do I think they deserve to be on the team? Absolutely. But it's a matter of people and timing and politics, and the decision is out of my hands."

 

On the topic of people and politics, I ask him how he feels about playing with several of his former Raven teammates, considering that he left the team under such a black cloud, but he seems nonplussed by it all.

 

"I'm on excellent terms with the entire Court— Thea and I have always been close, and Jean and I share a history that lends us a very powerful bond. I have nothing but respect for them, and I'm honoured by the chance to get to play with such dedicated and talented players— if only we could get them for the Coyotes!" He laughs, but that brings us around to a topic that darkens his mood pretty quickly: his former teammate and partner, Riko Moriyama. When I say that such team-selection tactics are reminiscent of the late lamented King of Exy, he looks disturbed."It is not the same," he insists. "Riko's dream of the Perfect Court was a beautiful idea, but the tactics he employed to create it are nothing I would want to emulate."

 

I note that Moreau's appearance at the summer Olympics saw his cheek finally bare of the number three that had adorned it since before he was an official part of the Ravens' line-up, and Day nods. "Yes, Jean is carving out his own path now, and I am delighted to be able to witness it," he says, but won't be drawn into further conversation about Moreau's motives or experiences— "If you want to know more, you'll have to talk to Jean. I won't speak for him again. Nobody should ever speak for him again." Will he tell me if he intends to do the same? He seems surprised when I ask.

 

"Remove my chess piece?" He shakes his head slowly. "No. Getting this tattoo was a big step on my journey from the boy I was to the man I've become. Yes, its origins are in my past, but it was a conscious decision about the direction of my future, a direction I've pursued ever since. It was not solely or even primarily about Riko, it was about my right to make choices for myself and to use the experiences I've had —both positive and negative— as building blocks to create something of my own design." He reaches up to brush his thumb over it, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It was also one of my first bonding experiences with my father, which is a memory I cherish. Maybe at some point in my future, I'll see fit to transform it again: when I retire, perhaps, or when we take gold at the Olympics. For the moment, however, I'm comfortable how I am."

 

That's a perfect note to end on, I tell him. He smiles, thanks me for my time, then heads off to seek out Minyard and Josten at the craft services table. _Comfortable_ is a good word to use, I believe, as he at last seems as content off the court as he does on it: a man at peace within his own skin, regardless of what adorns it.

 

* * *

**_NEIL JOSTEN_ **

* * *

  

I finally snag Josten between halves of his photoshoot, knocking on the door of the room set up for him to change that his people had requested. He bids me in a moment later wearing the simplest of the shirts the stylist has left him (plain black), still trying to choose between two jackets. I suggest one of the two, which he considers for a moment, then finally nods. He appears unhappy with the entire concept of a photoshoot, though I suspect it's not, as some have guessed, anything to do with the faded scars on his cheeks. The offer of make-up before the shoot seems to confuse more than offend him —"Everyone has already seen them a hundred times on game nights, so why bother?"— and any discussion of the shoot itself is met with polite disinterest. Ultimately, it seems less like a self-esteem issue and more like a profound disinterest in the entire experience.

 

When I ask how he's feeling about the upcoming season, however, his mood automatically changes from one of distracted boredom to excited engagement. "Confident," he says easily. "We made great progress last year, building on what Kevin had achieved in the two years previous, and I know we can improve this year, too." Does he really credit so much of the team's improvement to Day? Josten laughs. "Of course. Isn't it obvious? The Coyotes were stuck in the middle of the table for ten years, but they jumped five places in the first two seasons after he signed with them." I point out that they've almost achieved the same again in the single year that Josten has been playing with them, but he shrugs off the implication. "That wasn't me. That was the entire team working together." But yet he attributes the improvement in the previous years to Day? "Kevin Day is the best striker in the game," he says simply. "It's impossible not to give your best effort when he's around, in part because he's inspirational, and also—" He smirks then, but there's something fond behind it. "Also because he won't let you get away with half-assing it."

 

I press for more as we make our way from the dressing room and out to where the shoot is taking place.

 

"Kevin built a foundation when he came to the Coyotes. It took time, because it always takes time, but to attribute the fruits of those efforts to me would be ridiculous. I play to the best of my ability, but everything I learned about this game, I learned from Kevin, and everything I do on the court is only an option because I have the rest of the team behind me and Kevin at my side. We do work well as a pair, but I'm only half of that, and I'm only a fraction of the team as a whole. I showed up two years into what he was trying to do with the Coyotes, and every single member of the team has played a part in where we are today. I get to benefit from that work, and I'll contribute as much as I can and in every way that I can, but that's very different to being responsible for it."

 

Beginning the new season as a Starting Striker alongside Day should give him a good opportunity to do that, I say. How does he feel about his promotion from Reserve? "I'm honoured. The team has shown an incredible amount of faith in me, and in Kevin, and in our teamwork. I have no intention of letting them down."

 

Speaking of teamwork... I ask about Minyard, and how Josten feels about having his old teammate at his back again. His response is immediate: "Andrew Minyard is the best thing that could have happened to this team. Kevin and I will be working our hardest to push for every goal we can score, but without someone to control our own goal, we'll never get where we need to go."

 

I mention the Coyotes' former goalkeeper Vance, and Josten sighs heavily.

 

"What do you want to know?"

 

There was talk of a poor relationship between them, I remind him.

 

"Yes," he says slowly; his voice has changed a little as he speaks, giving the impression of a prepared speech. "It's not a secret that we didn't get along." I ask why that was, and Josten looks uncomfortable. "I don't think he gave his best effort, and it's my belief that he was too comfortable with the team's structure and position before Kevin came along. He was happy to coast in mid-league instead of pushing to be better. On a professional team, that's inexcusable."

 

What about his comments about every player contributing to where the team is today?

 

"Well, we did finish third last season," he says, so mildly that it takes me a second to catch on that he means this as an insult. Is he suggesting that Vance's contribution was to impair the team rather to than advance it? He confirms this before I can even ask: "Watch us do better this year now we have someone in goal who can actually do their job."

 

His gaze slides over to Day as he says it, but there's no sign of remorse on his face. Josten developed quite a reputation for his mouth in his first year at Palmetto, but the general consensus was that he'd mellowed a little with age. I ponder if Minyard's presence has contributed to this resurgence of his former motormouth ways— Is he concerned about having Minyard on the team, on a personal level? After all, there was plenty of speculation that he and Minyard were involved in some kind of feud. When I put this to him, Josten only laughs.

 

"There's nobody I trust more, and nobody I would rather have in goal, on this team or any other. Andrew and I played together for four years— my first serious steps in this sport were at his side. We won two Championships together. The Foxes are an incredible team, and incredibly tight-knit: our first Championship was won with a team of just nine players. It's difficult to go from that to being in direct competition, where it was my job to score on him, and his job to stop me. But any professional rivalry has come from a place of respect: you can't spend four years on such a small team with someone who has Andrew's skill and want anything for them but the amazing future they deserve."

 

I point out that there were reports of he and Minyard heckling one another during games, but he's quick to dispute that, too: "Of course we did. We did that when we played for the Foxes, as well, and we'll probably do it more now we're together again for the Coyotes. It's not a sign of disrespect, it's an indication of comfort."

 

Speaking of rumours, and comfort, I ask if that long-standing experience with one another is the reason Day pushed for Minyard to be added to the line this season.

 

"Oh, you'll have to ask Kevin about that," Josten says blandly. "I wouldn't presume to speak for him."

 

It occurs to me then that he didn't speak for Minyard, either: when he talked about their rivalry, he'd said nothing about how Minyard felt about him. I put that to him, and he smiles.

 

"I wouldn't presume to speak for him, either."

 

The fans have not been so reticent; in addition to the wide-ranging speculation about a feud between the two, some sites also suggested that Josten himself also pushed for Minyard's new role. Is there any truth to that, I ask, considering Josten speaks so highly of him?

 

"As I said: Andrew Minyard is the best thing that could have happened to the team. If you want to know why he was selected, you only have to look at his stats. The two years he was with the Hawks saw their point gap drop by more than fifty percent. His record of shots blocked puts him in the top ten of any goalkeeper not just for the last two seasons he's been playing, but in the last ten years. We're lucky to have him. I don't just _believe_ he's going to be an asset to this team: I _know_ he is."

 

That doesn't answer the question, I say, but Josten remains firm.

 

"Every player on this team has earned their spot by talent and hard work. That's all I need to say about it."

 

I make the point that he says that a lot: any time he's asked about his past or his personal life, he says it's not relevant. "Because it isn't," Josten says, looking both weary and baffled. "I honestly don't know why people keep asking me about this."

 

A great many trees have died to detail the intricacies of Josten's past, but a quick recap might outline how he was born Nathaniel Wesninski, son of Nathan Wesninski, one of the East Coast's most notorious figures in organised crime, and had been on the run for nearly a decade before adopting the name Neil Josten and taking up Exy. The operation that finally brought an end to his father's criminal machinations in Baltimore is known in far less detail, but when I press Josten on this matter, he clams up immediately. Passionate when discussing Exy, affectionate while discussing his friends, and brutal when discussing those who he considers a problem, when it comes to his past or his family, he is a blank wall of silence, devoid of information, expression, or opinion. There is not a single word he will say about the issue, no matter how gently or firmly I inquire.

 

"I won't be discussing that," he says, repeatedly, giving the air of someone who is disappointed, but unsurprised, to have the question put to him. In an attempt to steer things back on track, I ask him about less prickly subjects: his favourite restaurant in town, his favourite movies, what he likes to do off the court. Josten is less devoted to his appearance of indifference here, but gives just as little away. I don't understand, I tell him. His reticence about his past is understandable, but isn't there anything you'd like your fans to know about you? "Everything my fans need to know about me, they've already seen on the court," Josten says, voice steady. "I give everything I have to every game I play." But that's not him, I point out. That's his game. Isn't there a difference? He looks torn as he considers this, glancing over to where Minyard and Day are deep in conversation.

 

"It's a part of me," he says. "Maybe the biggest part. Maybe not. But it's the only part people need to know about. My personal life, my likes, my dislikes— Why does anyone need to know all that? Why does anyone _want_ to know?"

 

Because you're a celebrity, I point out, but he looks dubious.

 

"I'm not a celebrity; I'm an athlete."

 

I try to tell him they're equivalent to the same thing, but he waves the explanation away in irritation.

 

"No. The media has conflated the two, but they're separate things. I would still be happy to play Exy every day of my life even if there was no audience. I'm pretty sure our manager will skin me for saying this, but I don't do it for the fans. I do it for the sport. If you love Exy then we've got something in common, but I'll still be playing even if you don't show up." He smiles then. It transforms his face, and I realise that he means every word he says: he is not in this for the glory, for the attention, for the money. He plays because he loves the sport, nothing less and nothing more. "Of course, if you do show up? I'll give you the very best game I can, from my first minute on the court until the final buzzer sounds. You deserve nothing less, and the game deserves nothing less." He gets up then, indicating the interview is over, and makes his way over to Day and Minyard, tossing a faintly apologetic look over his shoulder as he goes.

 

"Honestly," he adds, giving me a faint smile. "That's really the only thing people need to know."

 

* * *

  ** _ANDREW MINYARD_**

* * *

 

 I admit that I approached Andrew Minyard with a certain level of trepidation— his reputation as one of the least press-friendly players on the professional circuit is well-known. In his time with the Foxes, he was never turned out for post-game analysis and interviews, and even with the Hawks, his appearances were few and far between. Where Day is accepting of media intrusion, and Josten is irritated by it, Minyard seems indifferent to the entire spectacle; he does not handle it with the polite friendliness that comes of Kevin Day's obvious media training, or with the more genuine (if difficult) hostility of Neil Josten. He simply refuses to comment any time anyone does happen to catch him on camera. That absolute stonewalling make him a far more difficult interview subject than either of his teammates, and I wonder if it played any part in the Hawks' decision to trade him, or was the reason Day (and perhaps Josten) had to argue to get him on the line.

 

Day and Josten insist his career speaks for itself, and on a professional level it does: his stats are among the most impressive in the game. I took some time to verify Josten's claims that his shots saved record puts him on the list of the top ten goalkeepers in the last decade; to nobody's surprise, I discovered that it is indeed true. Minyard currently occupies the number six position, which is beyond impressive considering that he has only been playing in the professional leagues for two years. As with all players of such a stats-heavy sort, professionally, there is plenty of information about Minyard available. In his case, all of it is positive.

 

On a personal level, however, he's more mystery than man. Yes, there have been many stories: how he spent much of his teens in a juvenile detention facility, how he was subject to court-mandated medication therapy after he hospitalised four men who had attacked his cousin, that he was the first and only player to ever turn down an invitation to join the Ravens, but Minyard has refused to comment on any of these events, and his poker face when subject to questions is legendary. Perhaps this has its roots in the story which got the most attention of all: his brother's trial, mid-way through Minyard's career with the Foxes, for the murder of the man who had attacked Andrew, and who had abused him during his youth. He was predictably hounded in the wake of those events, and whatever patience he had for the press before that probably evaporated soon afterwards.

 

Aaron Minyard (then also a member of the Foxes, currently studying neurosurgery at South Carolina) was of course acquitted, though neither the brothers nor their teammates were willing to comment beyond saying that they were pleased that justice was served. Andrew Minyard himself gave absolutely zero comments: there is no public record of his reaction to the trial, or the media circus which followed. Interestingly, around that time, Day and Josten also completely disappeared off the map. Perhaps the three of them went to ground together— convenient, considering that a memorial was held for Riko Moriyama not long afterwards. Day's absence at that event was conspicuous, and the subject of a lot of commentary; the official story was that he was bed-ridden with a viral infection and required the remainder of the summer to recuperate so that he could return to the new season at full capacity, but certainly the timing is interesting.

 

Conspiracy or not, there is no question that Minyard avoids the press wherever possible, so I'm surprised when the Coach Warner reaches out to me to indicate that my interview request has been approved— not only with Day and Josten, but also with Minyard himself. Ours is, I am informed before our meet, one of the few that Minyard has agreed to as part of his transfer, which implies a certain kind of pressure to do a good job. He's muted during our introduction, letting Day and Josten carry the conversation, and then all three are whisked away for prep for the photoshoot. I don't catch up with him again until we're at the third and final site of the day; Josten and Day are both changing out for their final shoot, but Minyard has finished and has set up at the water's edge for a cigarette.

 

I take up position beside him, and ask if I can bum one.He studies me for a long moment before asking if I smoke. It's not a stupid question; that answer is that I haven't in years. I tell him this, and he considers it for a moment before handing one over. Although we've barely spoken before this, I've had the opportunity to watch him with Day and with Josten. He is infinitely more engaged in their company— more present, though there is little point attempting to interview him while they are around: they fall over themselves to avoid him being in the position of having to answer, and it's obvious that they are expecting uncomfortable questions. Their care and affection for one another is obvious and very real, which is in line with what Day told me about wanting him on the team. I can only suspect that Josten's refusal to comment on whether or not he also pushed for Minyard's addition to the team was a deflection. I put this to Minyard as he offers me the lighter, and it takes so long before he answers that I begin to suspect that he isn't going to comment at all.

 

"Neil and Kevin will do anything they think will better their team," he says finally, then his gaze flicks from the cherry end of his cigarette to me, and I immediately have a sense of how Minyard came to be one of the best goalies in the sport. He may appear checked out a lot of the time, but his gaze is as sharp as any I have ever encountered, and it gives the impression that he sees just about everything. " _Our_ team now, I suppose."

 

I ask how he feels about that, but his expression remains neutral.

 

"One team is largely the same as another."

 

So his time with the Hawks wasn't particularly different to his experiences with the Foxes?

 

"The Foxes were built with a certain type of individual in mind. Coach Wymack's approach was deliberate and distinct from that of most others. At a professional level, however, all teams operate in the same way."

 

I ask him if there is anything he'll miss about the Hawks. "No." Anything he's looking forward to with the Coyotes? He considers that a moment longer before answering with another no. I am beginning to miss Josten's prickly honesty, and frankly I am grateful for the cigarette. There must be something, I say, if he was prepared to move from one team to another. He takes a drag from the cigarette, and I press the issue of Josten and Day— did he come here for the opportunity to play with his former teammates?

 

"What do you think?" he counters. I say I think it's very obvious that there is a long-standing camaraderie between them, and that it clearly means a lot to the two of them to have him on the team. Does he think as highly of them in turn? Minyard scoffs, tossing his cigarette and immediately lighting up a second. He offers me another and I decline, still nursing my first, if bathing in the relief of the nicotine. I need it: there is unquestionably something unnerving about Minyard. Although he hasn't been impolite, exactly, his attitude is that of a brick wall towering several hundred stories tall. Despite his reluctance to comment on them, one of the few certainties I hold from my observations is that Minyard is invested in his teammates.

 

His eyes track them whenever they are in his field of vision, and although he does not speak as effusively about them as they do about him, I have the strong impression that they matter very much to him. Is this a holdover from the Foxes, I ask, which many former members have described as a family?

 

"I do not like that word," he says, and it's the speediest response I have gotten from him all day. What would he call them, then, if not that? "Idiots," he says immediately, but there's less ice in it than anything else he has said so far. I am tempted to ask if there is anything he wants to discuss, but from the conversation so far, I feel I can pre-empt the answer without having to expose myself to the scorn of receiving it. Instead, I ask what he's prepared to discuss, and he ponders that for a little while as his cigarette burns down.

 

"Exy," he says eventually, and he looks to Josten and Day when he says it. I ask if he's always had an interest in the sport. "I am not even interested in it now," he tells me. I'm not entirely convinced that's sarcasm, but it doesn't matter either way. What might matter, however, is how he thinks his Coach will like that answer. "I am certain she will not like it at all. But I will be playing regardless." 

 

I suggest that sounds like arrogance. He doesn't seem offended, but waves the suggestion away just the same. "No; it is simple fact. I would never have been signed for any team on the basis of my press skills, or my off-court reputation. I have been signed for my ability to block shots on the goal. Nothing more, and nothing less."

 

I ask if that bothers him, which earns me the first sign of an actual reaction I have seen all day that was not directed at either Day or Josten. Unfortunately, that reaction is him looking at me as if I have lost my mind.

 

"Why would it?"

 

Wouldn't it be nice to be appreciated for something other than his obviously unassailable talent as a goalie? The _are-you-nuts_ look slowly vanishes from his brow, but the lingering atmosphere remains, and it's clear his answer seems like the only sensible one for him. "I have no interest in how other people see me," he says. I wonder how much truth there is in that, but think the better of saying it. Instead, I ask what his hopes are for the upcoming season. "To win," he says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. I ask if he's interested in that for himself, or for Day and Josten, who so obviously campaigned for his addition to the team. He doesn't correct me about Josten, which confirms my suspicions, but the question seems to have surprised him. It's several long (and frankly: uncomfortable) minutes before he answers.

 

"I am doing it for all of us."

 

He drops his cigarette at that and grinds it out under his heel, then starts to make his way across to where Josten and Day are watching something on one of their phones. Day's stooped a little so that whatever their conversation, they can keep it private, but based on what I have seen of them so far? If I were a betting man (I'm not), I would put my money on it being Exy, and I immediately wonder if Minyard will tolerate it or no, considering his professed interest level.

 

"Are we done?" I ask his retreating form, and he pulls up a little before answering.

 

"I think you have gotten all that you need." He doesn't even wait for me to say more, just turns and crosses the rest of the distance to the other two, lifting the phone out of Day's hand when he reaches them. Day objects, but Minyard shuts the device off and returns it to Josten's jacket pocket without pause. Josten sighs, though whatever he says, he does not attempt to remove the phone again.

 

Watching Minyard with them as opposed to myself or the photographer or art director is disorienting; he appears to be an entirely different person in their company: though the changes in his expression and body language are subtle, he is visibly relaxed around them in a way he is not with anyone else.

 

When Day's shoot is finished, he returns to thank me personally for interview before leaving. (His gaze flicks repeatedly to Minyard and Josten, and I get the impression he wants to ask what they said, but can't quite bring himself to do it). The three of them pile into the Maserati that Minyard had insisted on retaining to ferry them around himself, and disappear into the horizon in a squeal of tyres.

 

* * *

 

So what have I learned, over the course of the day?

 

Kevin Day is unquestionably his father's son, a fact which probably pleases him immensely. He's as devoted to his teammates as he is to his game, and I can finally confirm the rumours that he pushed for not only Minyard's inclusion on the team, but Josten's as well.

 

Neil Josten is, if at all possible, even more devoted to his team and teammates than Day. He is self-effacing, but he has little tolerance for anything he considers time-wasting or slacking, and although he's been quieter lately than during his years with the Foxes, he hasn't outgrown his mouth.

 

Andrew Minyard hates the press exactly as much as rumours suggest, but he most certainly does not hate either Day or Josten. He does not hold Exy in the same devotional regard as the other two, but he is determined to bring his best game and give the team everything he's got.

 

In fact, all three assured me that the Coyotes will have a hell of a season this coming year, and now that the dream team is back together, I'm not sure anything can stop them. I'm still not a betting man, but if I were? I wouldn't put my money on anyone else. The rest of the league should watch out: these Foxes are on the hunt, and they're gunning for a title. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to see the photoset that goes along with this "article", it's here: [edit](https://onlycareaboutexy.tumblr.com/post/169053369614/a-magazine-spread-from-my-kandreil-continuation).
> 
>  
> 
> Come talk to me about Kevin or Kandreil on the Tumblr [@onlycareaboutexy](https://onlycareaboutexy.tumblr.com)!


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